


Sweetheart, you look a little tired

by Eshisakka



Series: Talk to me [3]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Anxiety, Bird mom, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Maternal love, Pearl just wants her son to take a break, Sleep Deprivation, Steven Universe Future, Steven Universe Future Spoilers, Unhealthy Habits, but he's also a stubborn boi who refuses to admit it, emotional suppression, steven is a stressed boi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22072864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eshisakka/pseuds/Eshisakka
Summary: Steven has been exhausting himself, but is too repressed to admit it. Thankfully, however, Pearl is there to convince him to finally take a break. (A short vent on allowing yourself sleep and the care of a mother)
Relationships: Pearl & Steven Universe
Series: Talk to me [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585891
Comments: 4
Kudos: 139





	Sweetheart, you look a little tired

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song "Two" by Sleeping at Last, which is a very sweet song that always makes me cry ;v;

His hands shook. He didn't know why. In fact, his whole body felt shaken, trembling violently to a force he couldn't for the life of him identify. He tried to continue writing out the lesson plan for next week, but his mind whirred like a teacup ride and his stomach continued to do sommersaults the likes of which he's expierenced many times before, only usually in actually troubling situations. This wasn't a troubling situation. No, he was just writing out a schedule, something he has done countless times now. There shouldn't be anything stressing him out about this… agh, why was this happening now?!

He dropped his pen to drop his head in his hands, fingers tangling in his curls. His breathing felt laborious, as if there was tape tightly wrapped around his chest and it was squeezing his heart, stopping the blood from reaching his cold hands and not allowing enough air to his brain. His vision swam. The text in front of him was blurring together. He blinked to hold back frustrated tears.

“Steven?”

He held back from letting out a growl. It was an unreasonably aggressive reaction to what was just Pearl’s voice, she didn't deserve that. Instead, he became more concious of his breathing, trying to even it as he shifted to make it seem as if he was just calmly, or at least just tiredly, holding his head up with his hands. Judging from the concerned frown he saw as Pearl took a seat across from him, it wasn't particularly effective.

“Steven, are you alright? You're shaking…”

Steven cursed internally, hating that that was a visible sign and not something that his brain was making him expierence. He bit his lip, starting to count numbers in his brain to give his breathing a rhythm to follow and picked up his pen again, willing his expression to not appear as distressed as he was feeling inside. “Y-yeah, I'm fine.” He looked up slightly to look around the table, taking in the empty mug laying beside his paperwork. “Just… drank a little too much coffee.”

Pearl followed his eyes, her brows only furrowing. “Coffee can make humans tremble? Has it got to do with how it can… give one energy, was it?”

Steven tried to put on a nonchalant smile. It slid off too easily. “Yeah, it's the caffeine and all, so yeah. Don't worry about it.”

Pearl looked at him and proceeded to stare unblinkingly. “Steven, how much coffee have you had this morning?”

Steven shrugged, a surprisingly hard task for his surprisingly stiff shoulders. “A couple, I guess. Maybe. Wasn't counting.”

She continued to stare. “…How many hours of sleep did you get?”

Steven couldn't help the annoyed sigh that escaped at that. “Enough. I mean, I got as much as I could.” He tried to refocus on his work. “Kinda busy right now.”

He didn't get that luxury though, because only a moment passed before a cold hand was pressed against his forehead, the invasion of personal space making him flinch violently. “…You're feeling kinda warm. You sure you're okay? Maybe you should get to bed, little homeschool starts in a couple hours but surely you can miss a day or two if you're feeling unwell? You shouldn't overwork yourself.”

“I'm _not_ overworking myself, I just- I'm fine, I just need to get this finished and then we can head out.” He said, hating how his voice had raised to such a loud tone. Pearl was just trying to help. But, the thing was, it was becoming harder and harder to accept that help, for whatever reason. He didn't want to think about it.

Pearl had moved closer, sitting next to him now. Her hands were on the table, not too far from his, restless in their subtle fidgeting. He knew she was trying to meet his gaze, but eye contact wasn't always easy. Plus, like he said, he had work to focus on.

Pearl sighed, a deep and sad sound. Steven felt himself bracing out of an instinct he couldn't quite recognize. “Steven, we- I'm worried about you. You can talk to me. Suppressing your emotions is.. a really bad thing to get into.”

“I’m not suppressing anything, I'm fine!” Steven yelled as he straightened, his hands hitting the table and his eyes finally meeting Pearl's. His expression started off unwaveringly stern, but, as Pearl continued to gaze at him with that saddened, frustratingly empathetic look, his eyes couldn't help but burn and he crumpled into himself to avoid her gaze and unsuccessfully retreat from this painful conversation, head buried in his arms. His voice was left quiet and miserable-sounding as he pleaded “Can't you just leave this alone…”

He heard another sigh, this one soft as he felt a touch that was even softer, a gentle arm wrapping around his shoulders, a gentle pressure that had no physical warmth, but still left him forcing back tears with even more effort. He tried to not let out a sound.

“Steven, you need to allow yourself to rest. Otherwise you’ll be too tired to do anything anyway.” Steven bit his tongue to not argue back that she wouldn't know, she didn't even need sleep. To not continue digging himself deeper by denying all of this and just saying he was fine. He didn't think he could say anything right now without his voice shaking. “C'mon, let's just get you to bed. I don't think substituting coffee for sleep is healthy...”

Steven tried to think of some excuse, a new explanation, a reason to keep denying this painfully real comfort, this assertion that he needed that closeness. But, in the end, all he could do was weakly nod as he was raised to his feet, carefully led to burrow under his blanket and promptly slid into quiet nothingness. Throughout it all, the only thing that felt real was the hand that carefully held his. Maternal and nostalgic.

Maybe this was alright after all.


End file.
